It Isn't Easy
by word puzzler
Summary: He's lost a lot, way too much in fact, and now that he has something worth protecting again. . . .Well, nothing is going to stop him from doing just that. They are HIS, and he'll do whatever it takes to make sure it stays that way. He just has to figure out how to do that without them knowing about it. (Cover will reflect which character the most recent chapter is about.)
1. It Isn't Easy

**_DISCLARMER_****: ****_This is a blanket disclaimer, I will NOT be repeating it! So please pay attention! _****I don't own anything of 'Star Wars Rebels.' Not the names, places, characters, concept, nothing!**** They belong to the creators/writer/authors/ect which does not include me, sadly.**

(Sort of) Extended summary/explanation: This is a collection of one shots in which Ezra is so far beyond over protective and possessive it's almost creepy. My 'muse' kept sucker punching me with this idea and I finally caved and sent it to my editor who gave me the green light. So here it is, this is also sort of an apology for the late update to my other story.

_Italicized words = memories, visions, Force speak, voices heard over the com, and general emphasis._

Underlined words = alien/non 'Basic' language

Line breaks indicate changes in perspective, time lapses, scene changes, and the like.

* * *

**It's Perfectly Reasonable**

* * *

Ezra had a secret he didn't want the rest of the crew to know. Well, actually he had quite a few, but this one was just plain embarrassing. He wasn't sure when it started or why, and he tried to justify. After all when everyone and everything that was even remotely precious to you was taken away, destroyed or – or killed it was only reasonable to be a bit possessive and protective of what you did have, right?

In the end it didn't matter how it happened or why, and he would never admit it, not even to himself, but Ezra Bridger was a mother hen. A **_extremely _**protective and possessive mother hen.

He tried to hide it and most of the time he succeeded, such as when he played off his need to watch over everyone as a childish cry for attention. But it wasn't easy, and they certainly didn't make it any easier.

* * *

Protectiveness:

He was protective, _very_ protective. They were so important, so special; he couldn't bear to see them hurt.

Every fight, every brush with the Empire, every close call, even the day to day bumps and bruises had his heart trying to beat its way out of his chest with panic. He would often lie awake for hours, worry of what tomorrow would bring keeping him from sleep. When they did get injured it was all he could do not to stuff them all into giant, insulated and padded bubbles. Where he would get said bubbles never crossed his mind.

Chopper was probably the easiest for Ezra to handle seeing hurt simple because he didn't bleed and technically couldn't die as long they downloaded the droid's 'mind' regularly. Machinery was also so much easier to fix then say a limb or _life_.

Hera and Sabine, well, he managed his mother hen urges by putting on a 'I'm a guy and it's my job to protect you no matter what you think or that you're capable of protecting yourselves so deal with it' front.

Hera would play along and let him do as he wished. Unless he crossed some invisible line and then she would. . .Well, let's just say there's a reason she survived so long on her own before she met Kanan.

As for Sabine, she would say something smart and sarcastic, and more often than not he could pass off his protectiveness as him crushing on her. Why she put up with it he didn't know or care, as long as she let him keep her safe she could be as sarcastic as she wanted to be. It only made her more attractive.

Zeb and Kanan though, made him want to rip his hair out. Zeb with his tough guy attitude wouldn't let anyone tend to him if he was hurt, choosing to grumble and curse as he did it himself. Fortunately for Ezra's sanity they were roommates and he could, and _did_, wait until Zeb was asleep before fixing up the bandages and speeding up the healing with a little help from the Force. It was tricky business considering how light a sleeper Zeb was and more than once he'd almost been caught, by both him and Kanan who'd sensed Ezra using the Force, but he'd been able to persuade them he had just been meditating and 'oops, oh well no harm no foul' if something happened because of it.

Kanan was the absolute worst with his 'I can handle everything and anything the galaxy can throw at me, _al__one_' mentality. He kept his injuries and his pain a secret from the rest of the crew. Why was anybody's guess, though Ezra suspected it was because Kanan didn't want them to worry about him, or maybe he just didn't want to lose face. Either way, it didn't work as far Ezra was concerned the man's aloofness just made him worry more, though the only way he ever knew for sure if his 'Master' was fine or not was to mediate and check through the Force. Ezra wasn't really good at meditating and when he did resort to it, it usually only confirmed what he already suspected: No, Kanan was _not_ fine. Ezra was then forced to find a way to help without helping. A problem Ezra had found was best solved by acting as annoyingly childish as possible until Kanan was too distracted and angry to notice what he was really doing.

* * *

Possessiveness:

They were his. His annoying Lasat roommate, his irritating droid, his sassy Mandalorian bomb maker, his kind-hearted Twi'lek pilot, his secret Jedi Master. _His_ crew, _his_ f-family.

Twi'leks were a very attractive species and Hera was no exception. She turned heads every time she walked down a street, and her natural ability to draw out the best in people and sympathize with them drew others to her like moths to a flame. Ezra had long since lost count of the number of males, and a surprising number of females, he'd had to subtly, and not so subtly, threaten to stay away. He kept himself as close to her side as he could to make sure her attention didn't wonder. He needed to make sure it stayed safely on _him_ (and the crew). His saving grace was that she spent most of her time on the _Ghost_ and Kanan seemed just as annoyed as he was about the attention she garnered.

Sabine posed a very similar problem for Ezra, being as she was also extremely attractive, a fact Ezra was more than happy to remind her of. But at least Sabine exuded this air of "you can't handle this, so don't even try" that seemed to keep most people at bay. Those that didn't heed the warning. . .Well, she obviously needed to be protected from _those_ people. Of course as soon as someone got her talking about art it was the complete opposite and Ezra hated it. Sabine, and her art, weren't meant to be seen by anyone else but _him_ (and the crew). No one else would appreciate them as much as he (and the crew) would, so they didn't deserve to see them.

Zeb was his roommate. _His_. He might be prickly and surly and have a habit of getting a bit rough with him, but Zeb was still _his_ roommate. Ezra had grown use to Zeb's presence and couldn't fall asleep until he heard the older man's quiet breathing fill the room. Zeb might be big and intimidating and more stubborn than a decade old bantha, but Ezra depended on that in a way. The why didn't matter, and Ezra honestly didn't want to study his relationship with the Lasat too closely. In the end only one thing really mattered: Zeb was _his_ roommate.

Ezra hated the term 'master.' Things with masters were just that _things. _Objects, slaves, those _things_ had masters. Ezra had come close to having a 'master' before and he never wanted one. . . And then he met Kanan. Kanan had had a master, and when he used the word it didn't seem so bad. Kanan wanted - No, _offered_ to be Ezra's master, to be to Ezra what his teacher had been to him. Oddly, Ezra found himself liking the idea. The idea of Kanan as his master, of belonging in sense to Kanan. _But_. If Ezra was Kanan's, then Kanan was _Ezra's_. _Ezra's_ Jedi instructor, _Ezra's _Master, and this weird thing they shared as Master and Padawan belonged to _Ezra_.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Well, there ya go. A way too possessive and overly protective mother hen Ezra.


	2. His Lasat!

_**His **_**Lasat**

(Takes place during Breaking Ranks)

* * *

"The next time they act, we'll be ready."

Ezra rolled his eyes and pulled a face as he walked past the room Kallus's voice was issuing from, but mentally noted to let the others know what the Agent was planning. He would have loved to take this opportunity to make Kallus's life miserable, but he couldn't risk the mission. And Kanan had said to keep a low profile or he would make _Ezra's_ life miserable.

"But remember," Kallus continued. "The Lasat is **mine**."

Ezra froze.

Lasat? His? . . . Lasat? As in _Ezra's_ bunkmate?. . . His? As in _Kallus's_? . . .OH. HELL. NO!

Screw it! Screw keeping a low profile! Screw staying out of Kallus's way! And screw making his life miserable! Ezra was going to make his life a _living hell_!

Ezra marched down the hall radiating enough fury and annoyance that everyone that came across him gave him a wide berth.

Kallus's words echoed in his head and he growled. Zeb was _his_! He was the only one allowed to make Zeb's life miserable!

* * *

It started small, with little thing like a forgotten datapad or a misplaced holodisc. The he started tripping over chairs that hadn't been there before. He brushed it off as a lack of observation. He was just a bit tired and it was making him absent mindedthat was all.

When doors stopped opening when he approached or closing to fast behind him and the droid in charge of cleaning his room malfunctioned and brought garbage _into_ his room instead of taking it out. . . Well, it was just a streak of bad luck, an off week for him. It was a challenge but he could deal with it, he was stronger than bad luck.

Then **it** happened.

Kallus ran a hand over his now smooth and hairless cheek. On the outside he looked as calm and collected, if hairless, as ever, in the safety of his mind he was screaming in anger. Bad luck it might have been, but now? Now it's personal!

* * *

Ezra snickered quietly as he watched the mayhem from his spot in the vents. He'd messed with programming in charge of the food dispensers so that nothing tasted the way it looked making normally sweet foods sour, bitter foods spicy, and bland foods a combination of flavors that according to the retching sound apparently didn't go well together.

He cut his gaze to the officers table and was pleased to see that Kallus a satisfying shade a green. Ezra smirked, then winced as Jai retched violently into one of the trash cans. He felt a bit guilty about including others in his pranks but pranking just Kallus would have been too suspicious. Of course if the Agent suffered the most. . .Well, maybe he'd learn not to stake a claim on what was Ezra's.

* * *

Ezra leapt onto the landspeeder, glancing back as it lurched into motion. Behind him was the Imperial Academy and he could just make out Kallus's figure standing at one of the windows. He placed one hand on Zeb's shoulder and flipped Kallus the bird with the other.

The I.S.B. Agent bristled. For some reason he had the distinct impression the brat was staking a claim on the Lasat.


	3. Protecting Hera

**Protecting Hera**

* * *

Ezra knew Hera could take care of herself. He knew that, and he respected his captain, admired her bravery, quick wit, and kindness, and marveled at her skill. Yes, Hera Syndulla captain and pilot of the _Ghost_ could take care of herself.

Ezra knew that, but he was still struggling with the concept that Hera Syndulla the pretty, very pretty in Ezra's opinion, Twi'lek was just as strong _off_ the ship as she was on it.

Ezra knew that on or off the _Ghost_ Hera could be a formidable foe. He _knew_ that. . . in his head. He was still struggling to convince the rest of him.

* * *

Ezra trudged after Hera as she flitted from vendor to vendor and sighed, though it came out more as a growl. He was annoyed. Not because he had to go on a supply run on one of the _very few_ days the crew unanimously decided to do nothing. Not because he was the only one Hera had dragged along with her to go shopping. Not even because he'd been turned into a human carrier droid. No, he was annoyed because once again **it** was happening.

His eyes narrowed as a few more heads turned to stare after Hera. His trudge became more of a stomp as he hurried to place himself between her and the lecherous gazes. He made sure to catch each of their eyes with his own, and most quickly looked away, not willing to anger the already grumpy teen.

Ezra huffed and readjusted his hold on the supplies, quickly replacing his glare with his more familiar smile as Hera turned to him.

"What do you think, Ezra? Should we stick with jogans or get something different?"

"Umm," came his oh so intelligent reply.

"Hmm, you're right," Hera agreed. "Since we actually _have_ an option, let's get a variety."

Ezra rolled his eyes but didn't bother pointing out that he hadn't actually answered since this was the 5th time it'd happened. He watched her size up the different fruit venders and his scowl returned. Even just standing there in pilots' clothes, the most unflattering clothing imaginable, Hera was still drawing attention.

Ezra's scowl morphed into a worried frown. It wasn't that he didn't think she deserved it, because she did, but that fact the Hera didn't notice or care? Her apparent obliviousness to the danger her attractiveness put her in drove Ezra crazy. It was all he could do to keep slipping into a full blown panic every time someone stared at her too long or too intently, which was what happened every time someone looked at her.

Ezra started forward again as the source of his worrying moved out of sight. It seemed Hera had finally chosen someone to haggle with. Of course the way Hera haggled often looked like friendly banter or flirting to Ezra. The first he didn't mind, _much_, but the second. . .

Ezra made sure to stop right next to Hera, angling himself so he could see around the pile of supplies he was carrying. If his position meant that Hera couldn't see him glaring at the sleazy looking Ailuvian*****. . .Well, that was just an unexpected bonus.

The man's reptilian red eyes sized him up before turning to Hera.

"May I help you, miss?"

"You have quite a variety here," Hera said, and the man turned his attention back to her. "I don't think I've seen some of them."

"Ah, yes," the reptile hissed. "I've been told I have many things people have not seen before, but I assure you they have all been well received."

Ezra scoffed and Hera pinched him.

"You'll want to be careful with that one." A reptilian hand shot out as Hera reached for a large, black fruit. "If you get too close to the center of a Barabel fruit it will fill your mouth full of seeds."

'Just _what i_s that slimy reptile trying to say?' Ezra's glare increased, but Hera's hand pinched him again telling him to stay quiet.

"I don't think I've seen this type before." Hera gestured to a small pile of golden fruit. "What is it?"

"That's plaitfruit. It can be a bit fickle to work with, handle it too long and it'll get hard."

Ezra's face purpled, and his arm received a new bruise courtesy of Hera's pinch happy fingers.

"Do you mind if I check the freshness?"

"You can touch anything of mine you like," the Ailuvian offered with a smile that was much too suggestive for Ezra's liking leer.

Ezra's snarl was cut short by a yelp as Hera dug her heel into his foot. He simmered, glaring furiously at the vender who had the audacity to smirk at him!

"Alright, I think we'll take a few of each," Hera decided. "How much?"

"22 credits."

"Don't you think that's a _little_ much?" Hera asked, frowning in a slightly pouty way.

"We all have our needs to take care of," The Ailuvian replied with a leer, and it _definitely _a _leer_. The crates rattled as Ezra shook with rage, and Hera's heel came crashing down on his foot again. Ezra's glare lost some of its effectiveness as his eyes began to water.

"Of course we do," Hera agreed. "But don't you think we could make a more reasonable deal?"

"I'd like to think I was reasonable. What are you offering me?"

Ezra's foot wasn't going to survive the day if Hera didn't stop abusing it, but at least the man was now well aware of Ezra's opinion. Of course the look Hera gave him quite clearly said "Shut up and let me handle this, **_or else_**!"

Ezra swallowed. Maybe he should let her handle just this one? Yeah, he would just stand there and look intimidating, and if Hera needed some help he was ready, more than ready! This would be an exercise in patience, Kanan would be proud.

He let out a long, slow breath and let the bargaining wash over him. He was actually doing quite well, just glaring and growling on occasion. . . Ok, maybe every few seconds.

Then he touched her lekku.

That was an intimate gesture, and meant one thing and one thing only.

He wasn't even aware of moving, just that one second the man was touching Hera and the next he was on the ground.

Ezra's hand throbbed slightly, but with Hera safely behind him it was an oddly satisfying feeling.

* * *

". . . and that's why Hera's mad at me," Ezra finished.

Kanan sighed and scratched the back of his head as he looked down at the boy in front of him. Ezra's head was bowed, hands hidden in his pockets, and shoulders hunched up defensively as he scuffed one foot on the metal floor. Kanan blew out a puff of air, fighting the urge to smile. The kid's demeanor made him look like a pouting puppy.

"Hera's right," he said bluntly. "She can take care of herself, _but_."

Ezra's head shot up as Kanan placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Just because she _can_ doesn't mean she _should_. You did the right thing." Kanan let his smile show. "I'm proud of you."

He ruffled Ezra's hair through his hat, ignoring the automatic squawk of "Don't touch my hat!" that did nothing to diminish the beaming smile on Ezra's face. He watched Ezra scamper away still smiling, and shook his head.

"For someone who was supposed to be scolded, Ezra doesn't look to upset."

Kanan looked over to see Hera leaning against the door to the cockpit, eyebrow raised in question.

"Ezra told me what happened," Kanan replied, moving to lean against the wall next to her. "I didn't see any reason to punish him."

Hera rolled her eyes and straightened, one hand coming to rest on her hip.

"He broke the man's nose."

"Good," Kanan answered. 'Wish I'd had the pleasure.'

Something of his thoughts must have showed on his face because Hera's lips thinned.

"I can take care of myself," she said icily. "Perhaps you need to be reminded of that?"

She smiled at him, a very predatory smile, and a sense of impending doom washed over him.

"That isn't necessary," Kanan assured swiftly, backing away. "That's one lesson I don't think I'll ever forget."

"A little reinforcement never hurts," Hera shot back sweetly, grabbing him by the ponytail.

'It hurts _me_!' Kanan thought, but wisely kept his mouth shut as Hera tugged him along.

* * *

Ezra stared up at the sky and let out a long breath, before dropping his gaze back down.

"Kanan's right," he admitted with a grin. "Hera _can_ take care of herself."

Perched on top of the _Ghost_, Ezra's grin widened as he watched Kanan fended off a very skilled and highly annoyed Twi'lek.

"Oooh," he winced. "He's gonna feel _that_ tomorrow!"

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

*** **Another completely made up alien. I picture the species looking like a cross between a Twi'lec and a Fallen (both are actual species in the Star Wars universe) but you can imagine it any way ya want.

Oh, and if you didn't get the innuendoes, then you're too young to understand.


End file.
